


The Dragon Has Fallen

by Art3misiA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Parent losing a child, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24231268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3misiA/pseuds/Art3misiA
Summary: After Draco dies during the Battle of Hogwarts, Narcissa is sucked into a maelstrom of indescribable grief.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: HP UnHappily Ever After Fest 2020





	The Dragon Has Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> My prompt was, "Draco dies in the war - from Narcissa's POV."
> 
> This story contains topics which may be triggering for some readers. Please mind the tags.
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Anne_Ammons, for all her dedication and hard work in helping me refine my submission.

* * *

**_May 3, 1998_ **

_ Oh, oh, my Dragon. I have failed you. If only I had acted sooner. If only I had done something. I could have stood up to Lucius, I could have taken you away with me, I could have reached out to Andromeda, I could have… but what use is talking about what I could have done differently? What’s done is done. The battle has ended, the Dark Lord - Voldemort - is dead. But you - my darling Dragon, my prince - have been cruelly taken from me, and my heart is broken. _

Narcissa flicked her fingers, cancelling the charm on the quick-quotes quill. She reached to pick up her handkerchief to dry her face yet again. She grimaced at the feel of the sopping wet piece of cloth, and cast a drying and cleaning charm on it. It felt like she had cried a whole sea of tears since the day before, when Draco had been killed during the battle of Hogwarts, and it seemed her tears were not yet done.

It had all happened so suddenly. Narcissa had taken a monumental risk when she discovered the Potter boy still lived - desperate for news of Draco, she asked if he was still alive, and Potter confirmed her son had survived. Her hope was restored. She lied to Voldemort, telling him Potter breathed no longer, so she could get to the castle and get to her son. 

In Voldemort’s company, she returned to the castle and stood with the Death Eaters - all the while searching for her son’s platinum blond head. But suddenly, reinforcements arrived, Harry Potter disappeared, and the melee began anew. In the confusion, she saw a chance to find her son. She grabbed Lucius and ran through the crowd, screaming for Draco, desperate to find him. Neither of them had wands. They had no chance of being able to fight, but they would find their son or die trying.

A mighty explosion rocked the grounds as they pushed their way out of the Great Hall and into what was left of the foyer. Dust floated through the wide open entryway, and one of the heavy wooden doors swung from a hinge, dislodged by the blast. Through the haze, a figure with platinum blond hair emerged, stumbling and coughing. 

“Draco!” Lucius screamed. Their son looked up. One hand gripped his side, he had a cut on his cheek, and his expression was desperate, terrified and full of agony. He staggered towards them, but his foot caught on a piece of rubble and he fell into the door that had been damaged by the blast. Already clinging precariously to the wall, the weight of his body was too much for the remaining hinge to bear. With a groan, it snapped and began to fall.

Frozen, Narcissa and Lucius watched in horror as the door crashed to the floor, trapping Draco on his back. For a moment, neither of them could move. Then they both rushed to where their son lay. Only his head, one arm and his shoulders were free of the obstruction - the rest of his body had disappeared beneath it. They both did what they could to to lift the door off him, straining against its weight, but it was futile. It was just too heavy to shift without magic.

“Help us! Someone, please!” Narcissa called desperately, but over the sounds of the battle, no one heard her pleas. Their attention was on whatever was happening in the Great Hall. The three Malfoys were completely alone.

“Mother...Father…” Draco gasped. He coughed weakly, and blood spilled from his lips, dripping down his cheek. He lifted his arm a few centimetres, reaching for them, before it dropped back to the ground. 

“We’ll get you out, son,” Lucius declared, frantically casting his eyes about for anyone or anything that might free him.

“It’s no use,” Draco whispered. “It hurts so much.” He coughed again and more blood spilled from his mouth, splattering fine droplets across his face. His grey eyes stared up at them, dull and full of anguish.

“Don’t talk that way, darling,” Narcissa whispered, clutching his hand in her own as tears pooled in her eyes. “Just hold on. Help will be here at any moment, I swear it.”

“Just—please, stay with me,” he replied, his breaths growing ever more shallow as he struggled to breathe.

“We’ll never leave your side, Draco,” Lucius promised, as his own tears dripped down his cheeks. “We love you.”

“Love—you—too,” their son croaked. His eyes closed, and his grip on her hand slackened. The faint rise and fall of his shoulders that indicated each laboured breath gradually ceased. Their only son was dead. 

Narcissa threw back her head and screamed, her anguished keening ringing through the empty foyer as her soul shattered in her grief.

* * *

  
**_May 7th, 1998_ **

_ My darling Draco, today we laid you to rest in the family crypt. I thought I would be blind and prostrate from weeping, but instead, I am numb. I feel like I have cried all the tears it is possible to produce, and I am empty inside. Please, please, my prince, do not think that my lack of visible grief today means that I have forgotten you. I would never— _

_ Harry Potter came to your funeral, my Dragon. I’m sure you are as amazed as your father and I were. Not only him, but the Granger girl, the mud—the muggleborn. They came and they mourned. Potter even spoke a few kind words in your memory. Afterwards, he approached us to offer his condolences, and even shook your father’s hand! _

_ After everything our family did to him, after your father attempted to kill him, Potter was magnanimous in his victory. He did not gloat, nor did he say that we deserved this, though many others have expressed exactly that opinion.  _

_ I feel ashamed. Ashamed that we ever supported the Dark Lord, ashamed that we raised you with such prejudiced views, ashamed that we ever spoke poorly of Harry Potter and his friends.  _

_ You and he are quite alike, my prince. It is such a pity that your attempt to befriend him in your first year was unsuccessful, and for that again, Lucius and I must take responsibility. If things had been different, the two of you might have been allies instead of enemies, and you might still be alive today. _

_ But there is nothing to be gained by ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’, is there? We chose our path, and that path led to this - to my darling son lying in the Malfoy crypt far before his time. You should have been able to court, to marry, to have children of your own, and grow old in a world not blighted by the whims of a madman or the mistakes of your misguided parents. _

_ I am so, so sorry, my Dragon. I love you. I love you. I will always love you. _

“Cissy?”

Narcissa looked up from her writing at the knock on her bedroom door. Andromeda stood there, the worry plain on her face. “Come, sister. Have a cup of tea and something to eat.”

Narcissa shook her head. “I’m not hungry, Andie.”

“But you  _ must.  _ You’ve barely eaten anything since—since the battle.” Andromeda stepped into the room, moving cautiously towards her sister. “You’ll fade away.”

“Would that be so bad?” Narcissa said harshly. “What is there to live for, now?”

Andromeda flinched at her words, but did not retreat. “Lucius needs you. And you need him. In the coming weeks and months, you’ll need someone close by who truly understands your grief.”

“ _ No one understands my grief!”  _ Narcissa retorted, her voice cracking as she clenched her fists. The quill she held in her hand snapped in two.

“ _ I  _ understand, Cissy! Did you forget? First Ted, and now my precious Dora! I’ve lost them  _ both, _ sister! I understand the pain you’re suffering far more than anyone, with the exception of Lucius.” The tears now rolled down Andromeda’s cheeks as she pleaded with Narcissa. “Please, come downstairs. At least have something to drink.”

Narcissa sighed in defeat. “Very well. I suppose I can have a cup of tea.” She stood slowly and took Andromeda’s outstretched hand. Looping her hand through her sister’s arm, she shuffled slowly out of the bedroom. Gods _ ,  _ she felt weary. It was as if she had aged ten years in the last few days. She didn’t know how or if she could ever feel normal again. She dreaded the many minutes and days that stretched ahead of her before she could finally be reunited with her son. How would she get through them? She did not know.

* * *

  
  


**_June 5, 1998_ **

_ Happy birthday, my darling Draco. You would have been eighteen today. We were going to hold a ball in your honour, Dragon - your father and I. We had been planning it from the moment you received your Hogwarts letter. All the elite of wizarding society would have been there.  _

_ And then Voldemort returned, and I began to fear what the world would be like come your eighteenth birthday. Your father tried to reassure me that pureblood society would prevail and we would all continue as normal, but as time went on, he, too, became afraid, although he never would admit it. He was in too deep, too enamored with the rantings of a madman. _

_ I’ve built up a great deal of resentment towards your father. He attempted to embrace me today. His very touch revolts me. I screamed at him and banished him from my presence. I simply cannot look at him now - perhaps not ever. I have hardened my heart against him. I blame him for your death. I blame him for everything. _

_ Today should have been the happiest of days for you - celebrating your graduation from Hogwarts, taking your rightful place in the world. But instead you lie here entombed in your stone resting place, knowing nothing of anything, because your precious life was cruelly snuffed out. _

_ I will spend the entire day beside you, my prince. I love you. Happy birthday. _

Hours later, Narcissa jolted awake and reached for her wand. It was dark. Where was she? After a moment she remembered - she was in the crypt. She had promised Draco she would stay with him on his special day.

She sat up slowly, stiff and cold from lying on the stone bench. The sconces had burned out. With a flick of her wand, she relit them, then cast a _Tempus_. It was after midnight. June 6th. Draco’s birthday had gone by a blink, just as his life had.

Crumpling, Narcissa gave in to the tears that burned in her eyes. Her sobs echoed against the stone walls, the only sound to be heard in that desolate place.

* * *

  
  


**_June 14th, 1998_ **

_ Today, your Father was sentenced, my Dragon. He is to be sent to Azkaban, effective immediately, for a minimum of five years. I am ashamed to admit it, but I have struggled to feel any grief at being separated from him. Ever since we lost you, things have grown increasingly strained between us. I cannot not help but place a great deal of the blame on him. After all, he was the one who chose to follow Voldemort in the first instance. _

_ I confess, a small part of me feels his punishment is not enough. Not because of his crimes, which still pale in comparison to the likes of your Aunt Bella and that monster Greyback, but because his involvement with Voldemort dragged us all into this mess. But here I am, ruminating again over useless ‘what ifs’. _

_ The reporters descended on me like a flock of vultures to ask how I felt about the sentencing, about how I would cope now that my husband would be sent to prison, reminding me that my son, ‘the youngest Death Eater’ — I almost hexed the one who said that! — had died only a month earlier. As if I could forget! _

_ I declined to comment, but I will tell you a secret, my prince. If it would bring you back to me, I would happily sentence your father to life in Azkaban. I would invite the dementors to administer the kiss, and not regret it for a moment, if it could restore your soul. I know such a thing is folly, but I think it nonetheless. _

_ I miss you every day, darling Draco. I visit the crypt each morning and night, so I can feel near to you. My hope is that some part of your spirit remains, and is comforted by my presence. _

“Mistress, Pria has brought you some tea.”

Narcissa looked up from her parchment. The little elf placed a tray on the small table beside her desk. “Thank you, Pria.”

“Can I’s bring you some food, Mistress? You is not eating yet today.”

“No thank you, Pria. I just can’t eat right now. The very thought of food turns my stomach.”

“But Mistress—” the creature paused, wringing her hands. She seemed to be warring with herself, debating whether to continue. Finally, she looked up at Narcissa, took a breath, and spoke. “—Master Draco would not want to sees his mother not eating. He was loving you very much, and would be most distressed to know you is not taking care of yourself.”

Pria had been Draco’s personal elf, and loved him almost as much as Narcissa did. When she heard of his death, her wails echoed throughout the manor. When they were able to bring him back to the manor, she had refused to leave his side until he was interred. Afterwards, she had taken it upon herself to care for Narcissa, insisting on taking over the role of personal elf to the Malfoy matriarch.

Normally, Narcissa would not tolerate such insubordination from any of the elves, but Pria’s words got through her walls, because she was right. Draco  _ would  _ be upset to know she was not eating, and insist that she eat. 

“You’re right, Pria. Very well. I’ll do it for Draco. But nothing too heavy, please. Soup, and perhaps some toast. I don’t think I could tolerate anything more.”

“As you wish, Mistress. Pria will bring this right away.” The little elf bowed and disappeared with a small pop.

* * *

**_August ?? 1998_ **

_ My darling prince, good morning. I confess, I’m not sure what the date is, and I don’t care enough to find out. One day blends into another.  _

_ I thought I would not care about your father's absence, but with no one else but the elves here the manor is far too big, too empty. I long for company, and yet the thought of having another person near me makes me want to hide. I haven’t been to visit him, although when he was sentenced I was given leave to do so if I wished. Isn’t it funny that part of me longs to have him here, if only to have another presence to fill this place; and yet, I cannot stand the thought of looking at him. _

_ The dark magic from Voldemort’s time here lingers in many places, and now I do not stray from your wing. I hope you don’t mind - I’ve moved into it completely. It helps me feel a little closer to you. The things that made this space yours serve to keep the memory of you strong. Your Qudditch posters. Your many books - oh, how you loved to read! Ever since you were small, you devoured books like a starving man who might never eat again. Your collection of brooms - from your very first child’s broom to the Firebolt you were so fond of before—before all this mess began. _

_ I found your end of year reports earlier. You were such a promising student before that madman dragged you into his clutches. Until he gave you that mission. I was so afraid for you, my Dragon. I almost went to Albus Dumbledore. Are you surprised? I bet you are. But in the end, I was afraid to do that, too. I knew what Voldemort would do to you if he found out, and I knew what he would do to me. I would have taken any punishment given to me, but I knew that if I were punished, you would try and protect me, and face an even worse fate yourself.  _

_ I just couldn’t take that risk. Instead, I trusted Severus to be your protector. Fat lot of good that did. Severus was killed by the snake, and wasn’t even around to keep you safe when you most needed him. I keep trying to tell myself that he, Severus, failed you. That he broke his wizarding vow. But, truthfully, it is I who must take the blame. I chose to go to Severus, instead of going to Dumbledore. Perhaps if I had chosen more carefully, the right person could have done a better job of protecting you. _

_ I will never know. All I have left is my regrets. How I wish I had a time-turner—! If I could find one— _

Narcissa put her quill down. Someone had triggered the wards. She reached for her wand and cast a spell to identify the visitor. It was Andromeda - how bothersome. She considered pretending she wasn’t here, but of course, that would never work. Her sister would know Narcissa was here and would not leave until she had found her.

As if reading her thoughts, Pria arrived beside her. “Mistress, should I’s let Missus Tonks come in?” 

“I suppose so,” Narcissa sighed.

Pria nodded and disappeared. She returned several minutes later, leading Andromeda into the room.

“Cissy, I just came to check on y—” Andromeda stopped short and frowned. “Gods, you look like you haven’t slept in a week. When is the last time you ate? Or bathed, for that matter?”

“Don’t be silly Andie, I only bathed—” Narcissa paused. When  _ had _ she last bathed? She looked down at herself and was mildly surprised to see the dressing gown she was wearing was stained and showed the signs of prolonged wear. 

Andromeda turned to Pria. “Run a bath, immediately. Throw those rags she’s wearing out and get her some fresh clothes, then get her some food.”

Pria nodded. “Yes, Missus Tonks.” She entered the ensuite attached to Narcissa’s room and moments later, the sound of running water could be heard.

“I’m worried about you, Cissy,” Andromeda said. “You’re all alone in this house, surrounded by bitter memories. It’s not healthy. Why don't you move in with Teddy and me?”

“I won’t leave Draco!” Narcissa replied, her tone desperate. “I  _ can’t  _ leave him! I need to be near him.”

“Sister,” Andromeda said gently, crouching down in front of Narcissa. “Draco is lying in the family crypt. He won’t know if you’re here, or with me, or halfway across the world. He’s dead, my sweet. He will not take offense if you leave the manor, nor will you be abandoning him.”

“I won’t leave my son,” Narcissa replied stubbornly.

Andromeda looked at her pleadingly. “Will you at least consider it?”

“I’ll try.” She had no intention of considering it, but if she pretended she would, her sister might leave her be.

“Mistress, your bath be ready,” Pria announced, re-entering the bedroom.

“Go, have a bath. Then we’ll have some tea,” Andromeda urged.

Narcissa nodded tiredly. Making the journey to the ensuite, undressing and getting into the tub seemed like a monumental task, but she supposed she must. Standing, she slowly advanced towards the bathroom. Her body felt like it was made of stone. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she might sink to the bottom of the tub and finally be at peace.

* * *

  
**_??? 1998_ **

_ My darling Dragon, I regret to tell you that your father is dead. It seems that Azkaban was too much for him. According to the Aurors, his mind and his magic simply couldn’t cope with being incarcerated again. They think the shock of your death, coupled with the rift between us, sapped his will to survive and he just… gave up. _

_ I confess I am torn. I should be mourning his death. I am completely alone now, after all. The last Malfoy - in name, at least. But I still can’t bring myself to feel anything, and for this, I am plagued with guilt. Regardless of my resentment that his beliefs ultimately contributed to your passing, he was my husband and your father.  _

_ I truly loved Lucius, once. He was my heart. He and I made you together. After many years of trying to conceive, you became the most precious, the most valuable part of our family. Far more precious than all of the gold in our vaults, or the precious stones, the priceless artwork and sculptures, or any of the many businesses your father had shares in. _

_ I’ve become empty, Draco. Numb. Everyone tried to tell me that the pain of losing a child would gradually dull and that I could begin to feel something again, but I feel nothing. I am certain that, if I were to turn a blade against my skin, there would be no sting at all. I’m not even sure I would bleed. I’m certain my blood has frozen like ice in my veins. _

_ Your father’s body will be returned home once the paperwork and investigation are complete. The elves and I will lay him to rest beside your Grandfather Abraxas. I do not see the sense in holding a funeral service; I don’t imagine anyone but gawkers and gloaters would attend. At the time of his imprisonment, Lucius hadn’t a friend in the world. I do believe his spirit will be overjoyed to join you in the afterlife, and I am terribly envious of him. It makes me resent him all the more, because he will see you first.  _

_ I love you, my Dragon.  _

Narcissa put down her quill and tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. Her nails were ragged and broken, but she barely noticed. Had anyone been there to see her, they would have been shocked to see that her hair was dull, lifeless and tangled, and her face was pale and her skin dry. The dark circles under her eyes were so prominent, they overcame the sharp blue above them. While she knew she must look a fright, she could not bring herself to care.

The elves had given up trying to get her to eat, and her frame had become alarmingly thin. Narcissa had always been slim, but now she was becoming skeletal. But what was the point in eating, really? Her stomach had shriveled away to nothing, as weak tea had become her only sustenance, the only thing she would take. 

She would perform her duty as a pureblood wife and make sure her husband was placed in the Malfoy crypt, with the dignity owed to him as a member of one of the ancient lines. But after that, what would be left for her? A big, empty, cursed house?

Standing, Narcissa headed for the potions room. She would review what stock they had on hand, and think about her options.

* * *

_   
_ **_After_ **

_ We interred your father, my darling Draco. I can’t recall when. It might have been yesterday, or the day before that. I’m not sure. Your aunt Andromeda came, and she wept when she saw me. She tried, as she has so many times already, to convince me to leave the manor and move in with her. To leave you. I cannot do it. _

_ I declined, of course. I won’t subject her to my malaise. It wouldn’t be healthy for young Edward to see me in the state I'm in - it would only frighten the child. We argued over the subject, and I bade her cease her haranguing or be banished forever from the grounds. It was cruel of me, I know. But she dropped the subject immediately, although she scowled fiercely. Your aunt always did have a most fearsome expression when she was riled, one that few dared to challenge once she turned it on them. _

_ After it was done and Lucius was beside your grandfather, I freed all the elves. All except Pria. She was yours, and I will allow her to remain by my side. Oh, how the other elves wept and begged to stay. But I ordered them to serve Andromeda and Harry Potter. As the last links to the House of Black, it was the right thing to do. _

_ I took a very strong dose of dreamless sleep last night. I have resisted doing so, as I did not want to be parted from the thought of you, even for a moment. But I am so weary, my prince. I am exhausted, and I craved oblivion. I also needed to make a final decision. When I finally awoke, I knew what I must do. _

_ I love you so, so much, my Dragon. You are my universe, my heart, my soul and my reason for being. I carried you inside me, and loved you from the moment you were conceived. It was a privilege to watch you grow, and I only wish you could have experienced the many joys and sorrows of adulthood. How I would have loved your children -- my grandchildren!  _

_ My purgatory is coming to an end. I’ve left instructions for Pria. She will need to contact Andromeda, so that she may perform my last rites. _

_ I will be with you soon, Draco. Finally, for the first time since I lost you, I  _ **_feel._ ** _ I am joyous and excited. I am smiling. I’m ready. It is time. _

Narcissa put down her quill, rolled up the parchment, and laid it aside to take to the crypt. She had created a box beside Draco’s vault where she kept her many letters to him, so he would know how very much she still loved him and that he was always in her thoughts. 

Standing, she made her way to the ensuite and ran herself a bath. Once it was ready, Narcissa sank slowly into the warm water, taking care to thoroughly scrub her skin and wash her hair. When she emerged, she applied perfume and makeup before carefully styling her long blonde locks.

Returning to the bedroom, Narcissa dressed in her favourite robes - they were a shade of deep sky blue that matched her eyes, decorated with bronze trim - then opened her bedside drawer. She picked up the bottle and the instructions for her faithful elf she had secreted there. Placing the note on her dresser, she clutched the bottle in her hand before slipping on a pair of shoes, then strode through the manor, out the door and across the grounds to the crypt.

The sconces flared to life as she entered. She descended the steps to the giant room where generations of Malfoys rested. Crossing the space to the bench near her son’s vault, Narcissa gracefully lowered herself to the seat and turned the bottle in her hands, contemplating her life. 

She had already made her decision and she wouldn’t change her mind now. Uncorking the vial, she lifted it to her lips and drank until it was empty. The poison was bitter and burned as it went down. But it wouldn’t matter for long. Narcissa’s vision began to double, and she felt dizzy. Basilisk venom worked quickly. She lay down, making slow, deliberate movements as she arranged her robes around her.

Her breathing became laboured, her chest tightening as her throat closed up. 

“I’m coming, my Dragon,” she whispered.


End file.
